


The Airport Excursion

by Vanillabunches



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 11:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanillabunches/pseuds/Vanillabunches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(fill for fukkafyla in the Nordic Jul Fest)</p><p>Prompt: Iceland gets stuck in a large, international airport for two days and by chance runs into each of the Nordics on separate occasions as they go off on their own business. Optional: It takes place late in December.<br/>*Bromance is key.<br/>*I prefer country names. <br/>*I don't like romance and fluff (unless it involves deadpan humour).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Airport Excursion

**Author's Note:**

> The original post is here: http://nordicjulfest.livejournal.com/7643.html
> 
> The song at the end is 'Jingle Bells' in Danish!

“Hey, kid. You okay?” A firm hand jostled him on his shoulder, the silvery-haired boy cringing at the touch and abrupt awakening.  
He pushed himself upright off the cold linoleum floor, stretching out the crooks in his spine.  
  
Drowsily, he glanced towards the inquirer. It was a man of around his mid-thirties, a beige trench coat resting on his shoulders. A fat Rolex decorated the wrist of the hand he was using to carry his briefcase, currently resting on the floor. Prompted by the worried gaze, he quickly replied, “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” The man stood up, offering Iceland his hand.  
  
After being hefted up, he thanked him. He issued a polite thanks to the busy looking man, to which he received a nod. The nation watched as the kind samaritan made off, blending in with the mass crowd of airport-goers bustling their way through the large sector of the building. Speaking of airports...  
  
A glance at the electronic sign told him he was at the Keflavík International Airport. He couldn’t recall why or how he got here, but he did know for a fact that a few people were beginning to stare at him in his disoriented state. He’d decided to relocate for a bit and eyed a restaurant on the opposite side of the terminal. Stuffing his hands into his jeans, he set off towards the open snack bar.

* * *

  
Once paying for a pastry and some hot chocolate, he took a seat solo near an open window. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his mind, sifting through his most recent memories. Was I drunk? he mused, almost sure that wasn’t the case. He must’ve come to the airport specifically to fulfill some task. He hadn’t been planning to leave, typically preferring his serene solitude from within his country over the frequent back-and-forth travels like his ‘brothers’.  
  
Speaking of ‘brothers’, a spirited man happened to be strolling past Iceland’s field of vision, whom bore quite the resemblance to a familiar Dane. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that the black hat on his head was-  
  
"Hey, Ice! Fancy seeing you here." The other had abruptly paused and faced his direction, enthusiastically greeting him with a wave. Dragging his luggage behind him, he made his way over to Iceland, taking a seat opposite the confused boy.  
His eyes lit up as he noticed the food. "Ooh, cheese danish! Don't mind if I do." Without waiting for consent, Denmark had snatched the pastry and began contentedly snacking on it.  
  
"What are you doing in Iceland, I don't remember scheduling anything with you." queried the violet eyed boy suspiciously. He couldn't remember much at all right now, for that matter.  
  
“Nah, just passing through. Figured I’d stop by here to drop off your present on the way to Greenland, so you can add some pizazz to your tree." He reached into his luggage and retrieved a small red box with a glistening green bow. After handing it over,  
Iceland stared at it for a while, wondering what kind of gift he could be getting this year. "Go ahead and open it now, I know you wanna.” urged a grinning Dane.  
  
Curiosity getting the best of him, Iceland started to unwrap his present. Throwing the shreds of holiday-themed paper on the table, he tore through the package until all was left was a box. And judging by the print on the box, it was yet another present from  
  
Denmark he would inevitably bury in the depths of his closet, never to be seen by anyone again.  
  
After internalizing what it was, he threw the paper back over the picture. “What the hell is this?” hissed the island nation, hastily shoving it across the table in the opposite direction.  
  
The blue-eyed man kept the present from slipping off the table by stopping it with his hand and pushed it back over. “It’s a blow up doll! I figured a kid like you could make use of it, I mean, what do you even do at your house?”  
  
“Definitely not any activities involving half-naked female dolls! What do you think I am, a horny teenager?”  
  
“Hey, these make great companions, trust me.” he assured his friend, a facetious air of maturity around himself. Suddenly, a sly smile overcame his entertained face. “Oh, so you have a problem with a female doll, I see. No worries, I getcha. I’ll just return it when I get back-”  
  
“And keep the change, I don’t want this!” replied the flushed Iceland, once more rejecting the gift. A third-party hand shot out from next to him, intercepting the exchange.  
  
“Excuse me for interrupting, but as the world-renown king of presents, I believe I’m a reliable source when it comes to distinguishing what is and what is not a Christmas present. I’m sorry to say, but this is not one of them.”  
Immediately after registering the voice, two eyes darted up to meet those of a similar hue. The man chuckled back, the puff ball on his Santa hat bouncing back and forth. He was wearing a costume to match, an authentic red velvet and faux fur-lined suit on his figure.   
  
“Finland? When did you get here?” asked the caught off-guard Iceland to the older nation.  
  
Setting down his unusually large bag stuffed to the brim with holiday packages (something of that size typically would have toppled a man twice his size), he sighed and sank back into the chair previously occupied by Denmark.  
  
“Where did Denmark go, I swear he was there a second ago-”  
  
“Den was busy, he had to catch his flight, remember?” he informed, politely folding his hands on his lap in front of him.  
  
“I guess, but how did he leave so quickly?” He glanced around himself, spotting no routes he could’ve taken that would allow him to disappear that fast.  
  
“It’s not a big deal, just leave him be.” waved off Finland, leaning forward with a lively smile.”I have a much more important task for you anyways.” At this interesting introduction, he timidly glanced up. If it was what he thought it was going to be...  
  
“And what would that be?” he hesitatingly asked.  
  
Digging into his large, dusty brown bag, he withdrew a wrinkled white scroll, pooling near the foot of the table leg as it unwound itself. How much of the parchment that remained in the bag, Iceland didn’t know- but he knew that Santa’s list was no small grocery list.  
  
Putting on the most saccharine smile he could muster along with the most earnest expression on his face, the rosy-cheeked Fin politely asked Iceland, “Would you be so kind as to help me double check this list?”  
  
The little bastard. No one could say no to the same Finland who hosted the Christmas Eve party, who would ‘accidentally’ add a bit too much rum to Norway and Sweden’s eggnog every year to loosen the two tight-asses up, and who actually knew what each person wanted for Christmas.  
  
Begrudgingly, the younger nation thrust his hand out. “Give me a pen.”

* * *

  
It was approximately three hours later when two bodies slumped over the table, dejectedly tossing their writing utensils aside.  
  
“So many children.” moaned Iceland, mourning the death of his fingers.  
  
“So little time.” finished the other, supplying a weak grin. “At least that’s over though- thanks a ton, Ice!”  
Stretching his spine, he replied, “I didn’t have anything to do otherwise, so it wasn't like you were intruding upon my time or anything."  
  
"Nonsense, that would've been twice as much of a pain to do by myself. I owe you something good." He bent over and began digging around in his bag, muttering about how inefficient his organization system is.  
  
Finally, he emerged with a long rectangular box. It's wrapping paper had a fireplace with a plate of cookies on the hearth, a lively Christmas tree next to it. "Here's a little bonus for being such a good boy this year." he informed as he handed it over, shooting him a quick wink.  
  
This time, there was no hesitation. After making it past the layer of paper, he was left with a simple white box. Holding his breath with trepidation, he slowly lifted the lid, aware of the Fin next to him proudly watching. The top was off and-  
  
"Uhhh..." The red was a pretty festive color. And the pattern was fairly distracting from the reindeer, which wasn't that bad...okay, who was he kidding, this definitely takes the cake for cheesiest Christmas sweater ever.  
  
The rudolph on the front looked like it was was run over by a semi-truck, not to mention the muddy pastel color palette that painfully coated the whole thing. It was made of the thickest of wools, and seemed like donning it would result in the same effect of walking into a sauna. Just looking at the garment made him want to hide it in the nearest trash can.  
  
"Look, his nose lights up when you squeeze it!" Finland reached forward to squish the balloon-like extension sewn on the front. It did, indeed, emit a flashing red light.  
  
"Thanks, I'll be sure to put this on at the first opportunity once I get home." Like HELL I'm gonna wear this thing, he thought, turning it off. He already had a list of fatal excuses lined up: he accidentally stuck it in the dryer, Mr. Puffin decided it made great nesting material, it spontaneously combusted- the lies were endless.  
  
"I knew you would love it!" exclaimed the blonde, clasping his hands together gleefully. "Why not try it on now?"  
Before he had time to object, the sweater was thrown over his head. As he fought against the captivity, his friend tugged at the material. Finland, being the stronger of the two, successfully managed to get the neck over his head and secure it.  
  
"I forgot to tell you, I'm allergic to sheep!" he yelled as a last resort.  
  
"No, you aren't."  
  
Cracking an eye open, he furrowed his brows. "Nor?" he asked incredulously, wondering if any of his 'fairies' had something to do with the appearance and disappearance of the two blondes.  
  
"I'd have hoped you would be able to recognize me by this point." responded the Norwegian sardonically. His cerulean eyes flicked down to the sweater, and he added, "Nice sweater."  
  
"It was a gift."  he replied coldly, seating himself as his brother slid into one himself. "Anything else you need to reprimand me for?"  
  
"I think that's enough for now." He crossed his legs and folded his hands over on top of his lap.  
Irked, Iceland slumped over the table and rested his chin on his arms. "What are you here for?"  
  
"Well, Christmas is a time for family bonding, so I decided it would be nice to celebrate it with my little brother."   
Glancing down to his watch, Iceland clucked his tongue. "As enticing as that sounds, it looks like it's time for me to run." He made to get up, but was stopped by a hand grasping his wrist.  
  
"You aren't wearing a watch either. Someone's intent on weaving a large web of lies today, aren't they?" Grimacing, he returned to his seat. "I just want to have a casual man-to-man discussion, is that too much to ask?" Norway's non-emotive expression had one slightly raised eyebrow. It subliminally prompted him to stay just a bit longer. He wasn't feeling guilty for not having spent time with him recently. Nope, he was feeling zero remorse.  
  
"Would you feel alleviated any if I gave you your presents now?"  
  
That was a start. "Sure. As long as they aren't as horrifying as Denmark's or Finland's."  
  
From within his coat, Norway slipped a slim parcel. He offered it nonchalantly, and Iceland took it, carefully squeezing the gift gently between his fingers. The material was slightly bouncy.  
  
Gingerly taking off the tape, he revealed his present. Wool socks. Navy blue, maroon, and forest green. Completely practical, non-sexual, and something he could wear without wanting to hide under a table.  
  
"Oh, thanks. These are actually pretty nice." he said with surprise, examining them in his hands. He suddenly was enveloped in warm arms, catching him off guard. “What do you think you’re doing?” he queried, face muffled in his brother’s clothing.  
  
“This is part of the gift. Now be quiet.” Norway closed his eyes and stood embracing the younger one, who was awkwardly standing with his hands straight down the side and not making any move to return the gesture.   
Grin and bear it, it’s the holiday season, he reminded himself. Just hold out a bit longer  
  
At last, it was time for him to back off. “Well then, I’ll be seeing you soon. Enjoy the weather.” Norway set off down the grand hall, disappearing as soon as he passed behind a post.   
  
That, of course, left him with one more guest. Turning his body 180 degrees around and shoving his hands into his jean pockets, he faced the presumed Sweden, who was silently watching Iceland.   
  
“Let me guess,” he quickly began, not looking forward to suffering through a potentially uncomfortable introduction for the fourth time. “You’re here to drop off a Christmas present.” He hoped he wasn’t sounding too rude, but he was starting to think he was going crazy. I mean, what’s the chance I would meet all four of them in my airport?  
  
“Yup.” He revealed a box behind his back, wrapped in sapphire paper with silver snowflakes. Iceland took it carefully, hoping that whatever was in it wasn’t either alive or combustible. He tore off the paper and easily removed the tape from the cardboard box inside.   
  
Of course.  
  
“You got me every ABBA album?” He flipped through the album covers, uneasily glancing at the sequin gogo boots and horrifying facial hair- both quite apparent in all their 70’s glory.  
  
Sweden nodded, his arms crossed casually across his chest. “All eight.”  
  
“Uh, thanks.” Not his style in the slightest, but he appreciated the sentiment. Especially knowing the man's 'eccentric' devotion to the band, which may or may not have scared Iceland half to death when he first stumbled upon his collection of ABBA merchandise. His experience with the life-sized cardboard cutouts was especially terrifying.  
  
"Sorry t' cut this visit short, but I gotta finish 'p some business back at th' home." He held out his hand to indicate his departure, which Iceland took respectfully.   
  
Iceland remembered a nice, firm shake, before he fell over, and all was black.

* * *

  
"Icey, hej!"  
  
"I think he's wakin' up."  
  
He felt someone nudging his shoulder, and he yawned. "Mmhhh, go away, I'm sleeping." he moaned, swatting the air above him.   
  
"Hey Finland, pass me your water bottle." He heard something being opened, before he felt a splash of cold water on the side of his face.  
  
He abruptly shot up, regretting it when he felt a wave of nausea wash through his head. He groped around for a vertical surface, leaning against a cushion behind him.  
  
"Give me that." ordered Norway, grabbing the opened water bottle out of the hands of the amused Denmark and transferring it over to his brother. "Here, drink this." Taking small sips of the water, he could feel the headache begin to ease up.  
  
"We were waiting for you at the gate, but we couldn't find you. You wouldn't answer your phone either, so we decided to look around for you." explained Finland.  
  
Denmark interrupted, moving over to sit on the arm of the bench. "We found you asleep right here, after someone announced over the intercom that there was a drunk asleep over by the gift shop. I found out you’ve been here overnight from one of the security guards, you must’ve gotten the date wrong too!" He laughed heartily and slapped his leg. "Real proud of you, Iceland!"  
  
"I don't think he would just inebriate himself while he was waiting for us to arrive." Norway loomed over his bemused brother, scrutinizing his condition. He placed a palm on his forehead. "It seems that you have a high fever."  
  
"Does that mean I didn't open my presents yet?" he asked the four, whom responded by giving him looks mixed looks of pity and confusion.  
  
"No, but if you're looking forward to it that much, go ahead kiddo-"  
  
"No!" he objected, waving his hands defensively. "I'm waiting for Christmas.” He stood up and looked around. “Can we go home?”  
  
“Hand over your keys. You’re laying down in the back of the car, then going straight to bed.” ordered Norway, extending his hand to take the said items.  
  
“He can’t miss the glogg!” piped in Finland. “Don’t worry Nor, he’ll be fine.” He took the first step, dragging his luggage behind him. Everyone else followed suit as they exited the airport.  
  
There was a pleasant silence that hung over the group as they walked, until it was broken by the loudest of the five. “Vint'ren er saa kort, vi maa bruge hvert minut. Sneen smelter bort, og saa'r det hele slut.” sang Denmark, catching a few looks as they left. After the first line, Finland joined in, and the two merrily entwined arms as they sang and brightened the atmosphere of the drab and busy airport. Sweden chimed in with his deep bass voice, adding himself to the party on the go.  
  
“C’mon boys, Julen only comes once a year!” whispered Denmark to the remaining two, whom were suffering through secondhand embarrassment, before he resumed his caroling.  
  
Iceland was fine with abstaining from the activity, until he heard the smooth baritone sound emit from his brother’s voice. What the hell, it’s Christmas Eve, reasoned the nation, giving in and joining the chorus as they warmly walked through the hall, heading home to spend some family time for the holidays.


End file.
